A Root Rat and a Wombat
#24 of A Real Animal Lover
Someone once asked me if these
stories were in chronological order, by the date they occurred. Heavens no!
That would be boring and tedious. I jump around from story to story in an
effort to keep it interesting. I mean really, how interesting can it be after
the fiftieth time that I laid a snow leopard?
So I move from species to species, trying to fill you in on all the
possibilities that are out there in the world...if you're brave enough and
willing to expose yourself to a little risk.
The next few tales are from a trip
I took down under. My first zoo didn't keep marsupials, unless you count the native
opossum that was in the wildlife area. No, I'm talking about the ones that
everyone knows, like kangaroos, wallabies and koalas.
The trip started quite a few years
after my first job, when I was no longer working at that particular zoo
anymore.
No, I didn't get discovered and get
fired.
The fact is I got sort of tired of
it. I wanted to move on to other things and that's what I did. We'll discuss
that some other time. For now, just understand that I was going to Australia to
learn about their native wildlife, some of which at that time was slowly being
threatened by human encroachment. In a few cases it has made a comeback, but
only thanks to the concerted effort of folks like myself who invested a lot of
time into teaching people not to randomly shoot animals just because they
thought they might be damaging to their property. Even the Aborigines knew
better that to wantonly destroy animals to no end use.
I soon made friends with a fellow
by the name of Nigel. He was a bit of a vet too, but he was more of an
outdoorsman and a zoologist. He was outgoing, but at the same time rather
secretive. It was like he had two sides to him; an open, smiling sort of chap,
and then when we were alone, a sort of a hush-hush kind of person. It was like
he was trying very hard to contain something he didn't want people to know.
He was a lot like me and I was
quick to notice it. I had to wonder what he had up his sleeve. My animal
interests where something you didn't discuss with anyone. It hardly mattered
that we as a species killed animals all the time, for food and for sport. No,
that was fine. Shoot a deer during hunting season and no one would bat an eye,
but fuck one and you'd be all over the news. So if there was the slightest
chance of him being like my Arab friend I mention a while back, I needed to
find out. If nothing else we'd have something to talk about, and maybe, just
maybe I'd get lucky enough to experience a few exotics up close and personal.
Nigel was in charge of a huge area
of preserve, and while it might hardly matter to you if I mentioned which one
it was, he's still alive and someone might give him a hassle. No point in
taking a chance on that.
He was typically Aussie, from his
tanned skin to his easy going manner. His vehicle was a much abused Rover which
looked like it had been rebuilt from the tires up several times over. It had a
gun in the back, as he said, in case of emergencies, and a five liter petrol
can that was always full. The seats had seen better days a decade earlier and
were now mostly just a metal platform. The air conditioning was limited to the
rusted holes in the body.
He was more than ready to answer my
questions, and I kept them simple and direct. The fact was I was very
interested in his country drew his attention, for the continent had some very
unique species living on it and nowhere else in the world and he was proud of
it. Then again, sometimes these unique
animals would make an appearance out of nowhere.
It was a shock to see a "mob" of
kangaroos bounding across the road as we rattled our way to the station house.
It was hot and dry, and I was glad I had purchased appropriate clothing for the
stay. He teased me about them being so new looking, but I responded that even
his truck had started off life looking a bit more presentable that it was now.
"So mate. You're planning on
breaking them in?"
"I hope so. And that's not the only
thing I plan on breaking in."
He looked at me with a look of
curiosity and alarm. "Wat do you mean by that? You Seppos have some funny ways
about you."
"I've worked closely with animals
for years now. It's nice to get out in the wilds with them. I'm just hoping to
get up close and personal with a few species I haven't had the chance to be
intimate with yet."
He appraised me from his seat
behind the steering wheel. "I'm sorry mate. I don't know if I'm making any
sense of your words."
"There isn't much to make sense of.
I'm just really into animals."
We drove on for a bit. "Look," he
said, "I'm not much when it comes to being even close to understanding people.
I no figjam. Ilike living in the bush. So wat are you getting at?"
I figured it was now or never. "I'm
not much of a people person either. I like animals. Some might say I like them
a little too much."
He slammed on the brakes, halting
the vehicle on the rough dirt road and sending up a spray of dust. I had to
choke back the particles until the breeze blew it away. He was staring at me
like I was some kind of freak.
"Ere now! Are you saying you'd
rather have an animal for company than another bloke?"
"Most days, yes."
He nodded, thinking to himself for
a moment. "Might you go so far as to say you would prefer an animal over a sheila?"
"I might."
His smiled grew huge. "Well then
mate, the next few weeks might not be as bad as I had feared."
That was the end of the matter
until we got to the station. The building was a rough construct, looking like
it had been here for a century or more. It was only about thirty years old, but
it had weathered to nearly match its surroundings. There was a lot of junk lying around it, which
later on I found to be useful, if battered, tools and equipment.
Sleeping arrangements inside were
Spartan. Having spent so many years living the life of a monk, a simple army
cot with a pillow and a blanket seemed fine to me. I threw my bags down in the corner
and went outside with him. He pointed me to a rusty old chair and then took
another.
"So mate. Let me see if I
understood you rightly. Are you telling me that you prefer animals over your fellow
species in all things?"
"More or less."
"Hmmm. Can you be more to the
point?"
"Sure. I've been known to dabble
with them during their mating season."
He eased back into his chair. "And
here I thought I was the only one."
"So, you do play with them on
occasion?"
"I didn't say that. I'll tell you
wat mate. You prove to me you're on the level and then maybe we'll talk."
"What do you have in mind?'
"Gertrude."
"Who's Gertrude?"
"You'll see. We'll get you settled
in and a meal in ya and go from there."
And that is exactly what we did.
After eating a meal of things cut from a can, he took me out behind the station
to a wall off enclosure. There was a burrow to one side, but no animal sight. Seeing
as it was hot out, even the hardy kangaroos knew when to get out of the sun.
But whatever it was in here, he wasn't telling me just yet. All he'd say is,
"If you do Gertrude, I trust your word on anything."
That got my interest up. The burrow
was good sized, but I wasn't familiar with what might have made it. It wasn't
until later when he went out with a bucket of grain and vegetable scraps that I
got to see her.
She was a big ball of fur, rather
cute in an odd way, and hardly something I thought I could go sticking my cock
into. Gertrude was a wombat.
I didn't know much at all about
them. No zoos in the United States had any such animal, and even things like
the familiar wallabies, kangaroos and koalas were rare to the point of being
nonexistent. So seeing her for the first time was a revelation. However, I made
my feelings known to Nigel.
"This isn't big enough for me to do
anything with. I'd kill her trying to get inside"
"You've got a good heart mate, but
maybe you've got roos in you upper paddock. You're right. If I tried to stick
my donger into her hidey hole, I'd end up serving her for the next day's meal.
"
"Then what's the point?"
"I'll show ya."
He let her eat, and when she was
full and rather lazy, he jumped in, hoisted her up and came back over the wall.
"Now Gertie here, she's a good girl, but she's got claws that'll tear apart
rock if she's in the mood. She needs her sleeping bag first."
I watched with curiosity as he
strapped her into a canvas suit. It had two openings, one for her head and one
for her back end. He legs were cinched in snuggly, keeping her from moving. She
looked comical, but in no way alarmed at her predicament. Apparently this was
old hat.
Nigel flipped her over on his cot.
"Now you see here, a wombat is a marsupial like everything else on our blessed
slice of planet Earth."
"I know that."
"Well, she's got the female parts
alright, but they're not you're normal ones."
"I know that too!"
"So you see, if you were a kid, then
maybe you could get your donger inside her, but trying to stick a full sized
one in won't work. But wat she does have mate, is her pouch. And because the
little bugger is a digger, her pouch faces backwards. Nature did that to keep
her joey from getting all dirty. And that pouch you see is stretchy like,
because a joey goes from being an ankle biter to a good sized youngster before
he moves out."
To demonstrate, he pried open a
flap of skin, showing a hollow as he pulled up on it. It was definitely more
likely to handle a human cock than her cloaca, which might take my middle
finger to the hilt without too much trouble but nothing more.
I was immediately intrigued. I had
never thought of anything like this before. If this were some sort of test, I
suppose then that I needed to pass it. "What do you do for lube?" After all,
the pouch wasn't made of any sort of tissue that self lubricated.
"Doesn't matter. I usually just
either get a good wad of spit in my hand, or a little cooking oil. The
important thing is that when you're done playing with her to get her cleaned up
and dry. Can't have my girl getting an infection from having moisture in her
pocket, now can I?"
I was wavering. He seemed legit,
for why else would he have this little setup for her. "So, I can have a go?"
"Be my guest. Little Gertie is
amiable enough, though she hardly ever sees strangers. It's just her and me and
a few thousand square miles of outback."
I nervously stripped down, feeling
a little ill at ease in doing s in front of someone. He didn't say a word.
Since he didn't offer any lubricant, I spit in my hands until the palms were slick
and I rubbied my stiff cock from top to bottom. I had seen how he had opened
her pouch and I repeated the movements and was rewarded with a puckered entrance.
The cot was narrow, so I straddled it and bent my knees until I was able to
press the head of my cock at the opening. Once the head was inside, the rest
slid in easily. It was weird, but nice.
I dropped down on top of her,
bracing myself on the side supports of the cot. I looked up at Nigel. "How much
can she take?"
"Length or energy mate?"
"Energy I guess. She's seems to be
taking what I have to give fairly well."
"Go easy at first. I ain't never
hurt her, but there's first time for everything."
I went slowly, trying to get a feel
for what I was doing. Any vagina, even in a marsupial, surrounds you evenly. It's
firm in all directions. With this, it was firm on the underside of my cock where
it rubbed her belly, but that sensation was a bit less on the top as her skin
stretched a little around me.
"This isn't hurting her is it?"
"Naw. A joey grows claws early on.
If she's tough enough against that, a little bit of soft meat ain't goin to
bother her none. She and I have been having fun for over a year now."
Satisfied with his explanation, and
now aware that he at least was a comrade of sorts, I allowed my body weight to
press down on her as I picked up speed. This pouch must have a great ability to
expand, just like a uterus, for at the moment, I couldn't imagine anything more
that a very small baby being able to fit inside it.
My cock was quite happy to be where it was.
She struggled a bit inside her
straight jacket, and this made a little uncomfortable, but remembering the ease
at how he handed her before, and her willingness to be trussed up, I figured
she was just letting off some errant energy. Her actions weren't violent; they
were more like she was trying to adjust herself within the confines of her "sleeping
bag"..
I held up my upper half, allowing
my lower body to press against her. Wombats aren't huge, but she was a good
forty pounds or more. I have a feeling she was probably getting more food than
was necessary and had packed on a little extra weight. It made sense in two
ways. One, she was his pet. People always pampered their pets. And secondly,
the heavier she was, the more likely it was that she wouldn't come to any harm
from his hanky-panky.
I fucked her for quite a while. I
really had no idea that this was a daily routine for the two of them, so I
figured I'd better make my first time a good one. It might be my last. It wasn't. I finally came after a good twenty
minutes of pounding away, making the cot creak and groan as I really got into
this novel method of getting off.
When I came, I spilled out inside
her with a gush. I stayed where I was for a moment, making sure my legs would
hold me before getting off.
"Well mate, wat do ya think?" His
grin was enormous.
"It was different. I would never
have thought of such a thing."
"You'll have to tell me about your
experiences. I have a feeling there's more to you than meets the eye." As he
was talking he was stripping down. He was lean and fit from his years in the
Outback. He straddled the bed and thrust into her pouch. "It's rare that I go as
the after man. It's nice to have the old girl warmed up and ready for action.
This was the first time I had ever
watched someone do what I did. It's one thing to know what you're doing and
another to watch. It was pretty intense. I was thinking now that I should have
invested in a movie camera. But then; no. If someone found the film reels, I
would be out of a job and behind bars. Some things where best left to memory alone.
I thought that I had maybe been a
little rough, but Nigel had the whole cot shaking before he was done. Gertie
had been driven up on the cot a good six or seven inches by the time he blew
his load inside. When he pulled out, a flow of sticky white followed. He picked
her up and took her to a wash basin, where he rinsed out her pouch before
drying it carefully. He then undid the apparatus that was holding her in place
and gently tossed her back over the wall to her enclosure.
"Well mate, I never thought I'd see
the day I found another bloke interested in a wider range of sheilas than
myself. I suppose you have some stories to tell me?"
"Only if you share some of yours."
"Crikey! Wat's there to tell. All
I've got is my Gertrude and a host of roos."
"That's it?"
"No, to be honest. But I'm not
always a nice person. I don't like dingoes, and I make sure they know it. Not
sure how you'd feel about those stories."
"I guess you'll just have to tell
me and let me decide."
"Sounds like we'll need a few pints
to tide us over. What say you and I drive to the bottle shop grab us some
roadies?"
"Is there one close?"
"Sure. Only about forty kilometers
south of here. That's nothing."
"Then what are we waiting for. I'm
buying!"